


Handheld

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Ficlet, M/M, sex surrogate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus helps a “friend” in a limited capacity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handheld

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This isn't properly British.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.

He sinks inside with a slow, shuddering breath. At first, he looks angry, which is how Severus always tries to mask his fear, and Remus wants to reassure his partner that it’s alright; there isn’t any pain. But then Severus’ features wash over into pleasure, and a second later, all the emotion withdraws. He’s struggling to keep control, even though half the point of this exercise is learning to release it.

He doesn’t piston, which would probably make it easier. Just sinks deeper, deeper. At the hilt, Remus is the one to wince, but Severus isn’t looking at him. Severus hovers over him, up on trembling arms, the candlelight barely enough. Severus’ long hair slips over his shoulders and tries to curtain off his face, but Remus still sees everything. 

Remus licks his lips, controls his own breathing, and waits. His legs are limp over Severus’ thighs, Severus’ knees against his ass. The blankets are pushed away off the rickety mattress, and everywhere Remus looks, everything is dark. Severus’ home is one giant collection of shadows. A few seconds of looking elsewhere to keep the pressure off Severus, and still nothing happens. When he looks back at Severus’ face, Severus’ eyes are tightly closed. 

Remus wants to coax them open. Severus has pretty eyes, whatever he might think. And Remus usually likes to look into his partner’s eyes when he’s getting fucked, no matter what his role is tonight. But he doesn’t want to push Severus any harder today, so he doesn’t say a word. 

Severus, nose wrinkling with how tightly his eyes are squeezed shut, hisses, “Aren’t you going to tell me to move?”

Remus lifts his arms. He reaches his hands up Severus’ naked sides, but when he reaches Severus’ shoulders, one of Severus’ hands bats him away. Remus drops both arms back to the mattress, cowed. In as soothing a voice as he can manage, Remus murmurs, “We’ll go at your pace.” Severus snorts. 

At least his eyes open, glaring though they are. “Stop acting like a therapist.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted me to be?” Remus’ tone is flat, unchallenging. “A surrogate to help you develop your sexual confidence?”

Severus snaps, “ _Surrogate_ , not a _therapist_. You’re supposed to be the empty body. The test equipment. The doll.”

Remus doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he just takes the chance to look into Severus’ eyes. It’s uncomfortable to be filled without any movement; his cock was never more than half-hard in the first place; he stroked Severus to hardness, but neither of them touched him. It’s slightly too cold in Severus’ home, to make matters worse, but if they were moving, they could probably work themselves past that. 

He doesn’t believe Severus wants a doll, anyway. When he first told of his newest completed studies on the road to qualifying as a professor, when he offered to help Severus in anyway he could now that they’ve reconnected and Remus is sorry for the past, Severus acted like this request was out of spite. But he wouldn’t have asked for this out of spite alone. Not _this_ , not if he didn’t want Remus at all. They know each other too well for this to be an objective session. But Severus needs that objective session too, and Remus gives in to Severus’ whims. Under that gentle gaze, Severus’ will cracks. 

He slowly withdraws from Remus’ body, gets about halfway, and pushes back inside. Remus grunts at the suddenness, at the intrusion, and Severus does it again, faster, face twisted in concentration. Remus gets the distinct impression that Severus is trying to be rough, to be brutal, but it’s hard to impress a werewolf with human force. Remus just rides it out, one harsh thrust after the next, only hitting his prostate half the time, if that. Those moments leave a lingering pleasure, but it doesn’t last long, and Severus’ rhythm is erratic, his angles crude. Remus has had better, in a dispassionate sense. 

In a passionate one, he prefers _this._ Prefers Severus, and the caution, the bristling, pent up emotion that lingers below the surface. Severus’ long, pale body and his deep, dark eyes. Severus’ quiet noises and the smell of him raw. Remus doesn’t need to get off to enjoy it. He _is_ enjoying it, and while Severus is distracted, Remus lifts a hand up to his face, to brush a few fallen strands of dark hair behind his ear. 

Severus’ eyes dart suspiciously to Remus’ face, and Remus murmurs, “You don’t know how beautiful you are.” His voice couldn’t be more genuine. 

Severus still hisses, “Shut up.” His whole face contorts and his hips falter, like compliments bring him physical pain. 

Remus withdraws his arms, lifts up on his elbows, and presses a slow, chaste kiss to Severus’ cheek. His lips draw over to Severus’ ear, and he whispers into it, “You _are_ beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re good at this, in your own way. I like having you inside me.”

Severus hesitates. His hips have stopped thrusting; he’s grinding in instead, and Remus’ body opens to that, his back arching to thrust himself down onto Severus’ cock. It’s not the thickest he’s ever had, maybe not even the longest, but it’s close and it’s filling, and it feels good when Remus clenches around it, drawing a strangled groan out of Severus. It takes Severus a few more mindless circles before he manages to grunt, “That’s too bad, Lupin. You’re just boosting me up so I can fuck someone else.” Crude words always sound off on his tongue. All Remus can think is that he’s grown since they were schoolchildren, since he was small and nervous and Remus did everything wrong. 

Remus lifts his arms to either side of Severus’ body and wraps around it. Holding tight, he sinks back to the mattress, taking Severus down with him and his weight. Severus doesn’t struggle. 

Severus grabs his hips hard enough to bruise and returns to shallowly thrusting inside Remus’ body, hitting the right spot less and less. His breath is growing ragged, and Remus nuzzles into his cheek, stroking the small of his back and his spine. Severus is warmer than he seems, and his body keeps Remus comfortable. Remus gives Severus a warmth and tightness in return and lets Severus ravage his body without even trying to pleasure himself back, even though having Severus’ stomach now pressed against his cock is an alluring feeling. Remus has had enough practice in life holding his own wishes back to lay still and take only what he’s given. 

Severus comes inside him relatively quickly. Almost silently. Severus’ breath hitches, but that’s the only tell, other than the warm liquid filling Remus’ channel. He flexes around it to try and help milk out the rest, and Severus’ hips go from thrusting to grinding to lying still. 

Remus kisses his cheek. Severus turns his head once, eyes sliding over Remus, and Remus takes the opportunity to kiss Severus’ lips. Severus doesn’t open them and turns his head away again when Remus is done. 

Severus stays inside him, overtop of him, and shows no signs of moving. 

Remus gives him a few moments. Severus never seems to _relax_ , not now, not any other time Remus has seen him. Remus waits anyway for the familiar limpness that comes after sex, the satiation and the heaviness, but Severus doesn’t change, doesn’t move. 

Finally, Remus sighs, “Our session is over.” _Our._ Nothing in Severus changes, and Remus asks, “Would you like me to stay overtime?”

After a moment, Severus nods. He doesn’t look at Remus. Remus understands. He draws his hand up Severus’ back and strokes through Severus’ hair, prepared to stay here, just like this, for as long as it takes for Severus to realize that _this_ could be more.


End file.
